


Count

by fleaflofloyd



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F, I Don't Even Know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:34:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26745229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleaflofloyd/pseuds/fleaflofloyd
Summary: Beatrix Franklin is no fool.---A short fic that was written before Angebunden was started. This is me attempting to short circuit my brain into writing again. It's been a hard week.A part of the 'I never thought...' universe. Set just after Angebunden.---
Relationships: Lucille Anderson/Valerie Dyer
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	Count

Beatrix Franklin is no fool.

Well, maybe a little, but that's not the point.

She'd sensed something was off with Val upon her return from nursing her grandmother, her grief not quite explaining her stiffness when Lucille had warmly embraced her. Her reaction had vastly differed from the others' hugs, Valerie practically melting into their holds in a way that broke Trixie's heart. She'd clearly been in need of comfort, and her perplexing reaction to Lucille, from whom she usually gained it from, had stayed on Trixie's mind for the remainder of the day.

The mattress shifting of a night, of a morning, had only enhanced her concern. She'd always known Valerie to be selective with what she disclosed; forthright in her professional duties, but introspective in most other matters. There was a wariness to her sometimes, that spoke to a profound heartache, or a terrible mis-justice suffered by her. Trixie's mind often went back to that conversation about Christopher and secrets whenever Valerie refused to speak on or talked around her past. 

She'd let it go, of course, understanding that she didn't need to know everything about her friend. Val certainly didn't know everything about her in return, and that had been alright.

It'd been fine for Val to keep her secrets to herself.

Then the phone call had come through from Sergeant Cooper, to say her friend was hurt.

And Trixie had known that the secret, that whatever was under her mattress at night, needed to be disclosed, before it was too late.

She'd known it had been contained in that letter in Lucille's hands. It had permeated into brown eyes in the days that followed. Trixie had a calculated suspicion about the words inside, mind on Patsy and Delia and a forbidden love, and Lucille's subsequent devastation had all but confirmed it.

There was a profound love there, about to be lost. 

Except Valerie had pulled through. She'd shaved years off everyone's lives in the process, but she was alive and Trixie knew that Val's secret was now shared by two.

Three, if she included herself.

Well, four if she counted Cyril.

_Poor thing._

The point was -- is -- that she's no fool. 

So when Valerie tries to tell her otherwise, to say that she's mistaken, well...

Beatrix Franklin is no fool, thank you very much.

She's simply a romantic at heart.

"I know you need to protect yourself and Lucille," Trixie says, eyes watching as Valerie looks anywhere but at her. "But I want you to know it doesn't bother me, if it is happening. I dated a man whose inclinations stayed with his own sex. He needed the protection at the time, and I obliged. It didn't bother me then, and it doesn't now. You're my friend and I love you. At least tell me you know that."

She sees Valerie sigh, then nod.

It's good enough for now.

\---

Valerie loves Lucille.

Lucille loves Valerie.

Trixie knows these two facts have been discussed, at the very least, between the two of them in the hospital. There'd been a shift a week into January, when Lucille's smile had come quicker, and Valerie's penchant for asking when she could go home had slowed.

And she knows that if they're given the space and privacy for it, their love will be able to blossom into something extraordinary.

She can't keep coming back from night duty to her room to find Lucille in the armchair beside Val's bed. She's gone by the time Trixie wakes in the morning, as if her presence there is unwanted, or wrong. Valerie looks guilty each time Trixie catches her eye now. Lucille looks embarrassed mostly, and is rolling her neck now too, afflicted by her nightly sleeping position.

Trixie won't stand for them hurting, in their varying ways. Val has enough pain to deal with presently without an emotional burden to add to it. Lucille has come through her mental toll over Val and doesn't need a physical ailment to compound her worry.

So Trixie's going to have a conversation, a possible awkward and confusing one, to see if something can be done.

She sighs and shuts her bedroom door quietly.

She thinks about what words to use as she descends through the house to Phyllis manning the phone.

"You should be retiring to bed, Nurse Franklin. I do not need the company, although it is never unwanted."

Trixie pauses long enough in her search for how to start the conversation that Phyllis reaches out an assuring hand to her wrist.

"We've been friends for long enough now, Trixie. Just start and I shall follow."

"It's not mine to tell, Phyllis. But it needs to be said."

Comprehension appears across the older woman's face.

Trixie eyes widen. She lowers her voice, "You know?"

Phyllis nods. "We must bear this knowledge by ourselves. Their livelihoods depend on it."

Five then, if she counts.

"Lucille can't keep sleeping in the armchair. She'll put her neck out."

Phyllis hums. "Go put the kettle on, and we'll have a cuppa while we sort this out."

\---

"I'm not sure they'll agree to that," Phyllis states, pouring hot water into Trixie's cup. "Valerie will insist no one is put out, and Lucille is likely to back her up, even though I suspect she'd rather agree to the arrangement."

Trixie spoons two sugars into her tea, needing the boost. "Then we have to make them see the benefits of me switching. Lucille will have a bed to watch and care for Val from, and she can continue to be of assistance when Val needs to bathe and change. They need their space, Phyllis. I don't mind that she's there every night--I mind that _I'm_ the one hindering them in pursuing..."

She trails off and watches her friend pour milk for both of them.

"I highly doubt that they see it like that, Nurse Franklin." Phyllis adds a half teaspoon and stirs. "Lucille is prone to guarding her heart, if her courtship with Cyril is any indication. I'd hope she'd know we'd only be trying to help, not throw her once again into something she wasn't ready for."

"We did go a little overboard, didn't we?"

Phyllis sips her tea. "I do rather regret making out as if my car was broken to facilitate a reunion between them. That was unnecessary, in hindsight. I hope that young man is doing well under the circumstances."

Trixie stirs her drink, the spoon clinking the sides. She wonders how much Phyllis knows of the situation as the memory of Cyril's words come back to her:

_"Sometimes wonderful things happen and we have to let them. Even if they're not for us."_

His handkerchief is still in her bedside drawer. It will remain there, if she doesn't do something about it.

She knows she needs to check in on him.

"He knows."

Phyllis shows no sign that she's surprised. She simply drinks her tea, and peruses the biscuit tin, pulling out a gingernut.

"I ascertained as much...funny how love works, isn't it?"

The statement is wistful, broken by the crunch of a biscuit.

The feeling sinks into her own skin, her past loves crossing her mind.

She swallows her tea, concentrating on its sweetness in an effort to trample down the incoming heartache.

She can't do much about her own love life right now, but she can facilitate the beginning of Val and Lucille's.

She's going to try.


End file.
